


and celebrate the irony.

by secretly_a_savior



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Band-Aids, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Recovery, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-02 23:59:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6588616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretly_a_savior/pseuds/secretly_a_savior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Alexander sought out to fix things with the only tools he was adept at using: his words. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	and celebrate the irony.

**Author's Note:**

> MAJOR!!! WARNING!! FOR SELF HARM!! OBVS.  
> it doesn't happen IN the fic- it's already happened. 
> 
> all u need to know is that everyone calls lafayette 'laf' (pronounced lahhf) and they're both college freshman at king's college. this is a modern AU obvs.
> 
> Comments make everything better

 

                Winter sunlight filtered into dormitory room 1776 of King’s College, and through all the dust the individual rays were visible through the blinds, making bright stripes against the dull wall. Alexander didn’t care though, the beauty of the sunlight was nothing compared to the beauty before him. He and his boyfriend were curled together on the bottom bunk of the beds in their shared dorm room, the other slotted between his legs, his head lying on Alex’s collarbone. They fit nicely like this- Lafayette was _taller_ , sure, but he was thinner, and Alex liked holding him.

                Things were quiet and _perfect_ and he felt like he could take anything that came his way. He relished the feeling of Lafayette moving just _slightly_ with each breath. He enjoyed the absolute silence. He hated admitting it, but letting his mind rest was nice once in a while. Of course, they _had_ been lying like this for at _least_ an hour with minimal discussion and he had let his mind wander to the only place it _tended_ to wander when they were so close.

                It only took a few kisses to the hollow of Laf’s neck for things to heat up, Alex shifting to accommodate so the other could roll over and face him. Alex smirked as the other moved not-so-gracefully, hair falling into his eyes. It was harder for the other to move around under the top bunk- he had a good six inches on Alex and if he wasn’t hitting his head he was getting his hair caught in _something._ Alex leaned in and pressed a hungry kiss to his companion’s lips and let out a satisfied noise as it was returned.

                He brought his hands up through the other’s hair and he felt a hand grip his cotton _Joy Division_ shirt lightly. He broke the kiss for a moment and brown eyes caught their counterparts. He didn’t say anything though, just smiled and caught his breath, letting his hands drift down, dragging along skin until they rested on Lafayette’s waist.

                “You are _magnificent,_ Alexander.” Lafayette said, his accent thick with admiration as he broke the silence. Moments like this made departing France for school worth it. Moments like this made his _life_ worth it- he often felt like he had no **drive,** but lo and behold, Alexander marched into his life with his eloquent words and passion for the world.

                The two stood from the bed, hardly breaking contact at all- as if they would _die_ if they stopped touching one another. Alex hummed contently as he was pulled in close, and cocked his head as he spoke.

                “That so?” Alex asked in reply, and Lafayette smiled and gave a nod in affirmation. Alexander wished he could take a picture. He hadn’t seen that smile often recently and he’d missed it. He felt like it brightened the room. He let his hands drop down further to the edge of his boyfriend’s black thermal, immediately tugging up at the edges of the shirt, the other lifting his arms to aide with its removal. Alex stepped back to remove his own shirt and smiled, biting his bottom lip, eyes running up and down the other.

                His lean frame was _perfect._ He was a runner, so he was taut and muscular and pride surged through Alexander that that was _his-_ no one else got to see this. He felt privileged for it. Something caught his eye though and he frowned, stepping further back for a moment. His own shirt fell from his hands, unceremoniously landing on the ground.

                “Gilbert…” he muttered, his voice full of concern despite its low volume.  The word itself exuded concern- nobody used Laf’s first name, not if they could help it. Alexander was the only one that could say it without getting backhanded, and he really only used it in important or intimate situations.  The taller of the two knew what the other was looking at and swallowed thickly. His flannel pajama bottoms hung low off his hips, the waistband rolled low, and on his left hip were deep red lacerations, straight and lined up neatly- out of sight, out of mind worked well enough, sure. He hadn’t anticipated them coming back into _sight-_ he’d forgotten they were there, despite their relative youth.

                He was feeling low. He was missing home. He didn’t feel _good enough_ for his absolute **saint** of a significant other. He had at least a hundred more excuses. They clearly weren’t a _suicide_ attempt- just in _Alex_ he had enough to live for- but he wanted to feel **something.** It was a habit from his teens that he’d just never _dropped-_ it was a vice. The blood shed was cathartic, even if he was _already_ anaemic and a further lack of blood only served to deteriorate him.

                Alexander stepped forward and let his hand move carefully and gently to the other’s hip, He ran his thumb over the cuts, shaking his head and exhaling through his nose, biting the inside of his mouth. He’d seen scars- on the inside of the other’s wrist. He knew Gilbert had problems with himself- but he tried to be there. He tried to _help._ Why wasn’t he enough? Had he done something? He had at least a hundred more questions but he let them rest, instead, stepping away and turning around.

                “I’m sorry, je- I- I don’t-“

                Laf’s stuttering just broke Alexander’s heart more, even as he searched through a small box that he kept pieces and parts in. He didn’t even know what to say, but as he found what he was looking for and slipped the small collection of things into the pocket of his jeans, he hushed him with a gentle kiss.

                “Don’t be sorry.” He whispered, shaking his head, letting his hands rest on the other’s hips again, self-inflicted wounds feeling hot under his hands. “I’m not angry.” He said. It was a half-lie, but he felt like these things should be handled delicately. He pulled the other gently back into the bed and offered a kind smile.

                “I am sorry. It’s stupid- I shouldn’t…” his voice trailed off. Words in English escaped him. So he didn’t speak. “I worry because I feel like I am not enough. I am broken.” He said after a moment of deliberation, each word enunciated carefully, as if he was still considering them as they came off his lips.

                Alex frowned and then emptied his pockets, shifting so he was sitting cross-legged, opposite Lafayette who had pulled his knees to his chest the second Alexander abandoned close contact.

                “Lie down.” He said, and the other complied with little complaint. Alex shifted too, so he was lying on his side, knees curled, so he was close to Lafayette, eye level with the injuries. From the small pile that sat beside him he took a small alcohol pad and tore the wrapper with his teeth before removing the small pad and applying it to the cuts. Lafayette winced and looked down as the other carefully cleaned the swollen lacerations before carefully rubbing in some Neosporin.

                Next came bandages. He used a huge, square Band-Aid and secured it further with medical tape. When he finished laying the tape, Lafayette tried to sit up, murmuring a _thank you,_ but Alexander shook his head.

                “Stay.” He said, simply. He picked up a red felt-tipped marker from the bed- the permanent kind- and uncapped it with his teeth. He carefully began writing on the bandage, doing his best to make his chicken scratch legible on the bandage. Lafayette watched on, confused as Alexander sought out to fix things with the only tools he was adept at using: his words.

                Alexander carefully wrote a list, each word bulleted with a lazily drawn heart, like he did in his notes.

>                                 ❥French  
>                                  ❥Brown-Eyed  
>                                  ❥Student  
>                                  ❥5’11”  
>                                  ❥Loved  
>                                  ❥Intelligent  
>                                  ❥Perfect  
>                                  ❥Beautiful  
>                                  ❥More than enough  
>                                  ❥Too good for me  
>  ~A.H

                “You can move now.” Alex said quietly, smiling. Proud of himself. He himself sat back up with a quiet grunt, watching the other. Lafayette listened, and bent slightly, reading the upside-down (to him) words with little difficulty. “It’s a list of things you are. "Broken" isn't on it."

                Lafayette just blushed, shaking his head, staring at the bandage in awe, the other’s handwriting looking so neat and straight. The cuts under the bandage stung a little where they’d been disturbed by the alcohol and the ointment and the pressure of the pen, but it didn’t bother him. He felt tears threatening to well up behind his eyes. He just threw himself at Alexander, burying his face in the crook of the other’s neck.

                “Non, _mon amour._ You’re the one who’s too good. I don’t deserve you.” He said, accent curling thick around the words as he struggled to muffle sobs. Good sobs- maybe? He was overwhelmed. He was so deeply appreciative of the other. His parents had never been around- his father fucked off when he was young and his mother passed when he was sixteen- not that she cared much either. He’d spent years patching himself up- wrapping _his own_ injuries, icing _himself_ after long intense runs. There was no one there when he was a kid to kiss his scraped knees and bandage them, and now he had Alexander Hamilton and he felt like he didn’t even _deserve him._

                He’d gone without his whole life and now someone cared enough to patch him up and he almost felt _guilty-_ as if he was wasting Alexander’s precious time. He pushed that thought from his mind, though, and just let his arms wrap around his boyfriend’s waist. He felt a hand running over his hair soothingly and sighed, melting under the touch.

                “Can you talk to me instead? You don’t deserve to hurt, Gil.” Alex started, his voice low. He pulled the grey comforter over the other’s bare shoulders, covering himself too in the process, shifting so they were both lying down. “I know I’m not always here, but I care about you. You need to care about _you_ too. I’m here so you don’t have to hide your hurt anymore.” He insisted.

                Lafayette nodded in agreement. “Je t’aime, Alexander. More than you know.” The words were only _barely_ muffled by Alexander’s own skin, but they were audible.

                Alexander smiled, pressing a kiss into the other’s hair.

                “I love you too.” He replied, letting his eyes close.

                After a moment’s comfortable silence, Alexander spoke, his fingers playing through Lafayette’s hair.

                “You are _magnificent,_ babe.” He doted, the words low and sincere, the pet name playing off his lips with pride.

                “That so?” Lafayette asked in reply, mocking his boyfriend's words with a pitiful attempt at his accent, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, the duo’s laughter filled the room, brightening it more than any poorly filtered sunlight could.


End file.
